


Powers of the Mind

by FreshBrains



Series: Femslash100 Drabble Tag 7 [49]
Category: American Horror Story, American Horror Story: Coven
Genre: Community: femslash100, F/F, POV Myrtle, Pre-Canon, Rivalry, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-27
Updated: 2016-07-27
Packaged: 2018-07-27 03:51:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7602274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FreshBrains/pseuds/FreshBrains
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Myrtle was never built to go up against girls like Fiona Goode, but she was certainly born with enough ambition to <i>try</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Powers of the Mind

**Author's Note:**

> For the LJ Femslash100 Drabble Tag 7 prompt: [Fiona/Myrtle - rivals](http://femslash100.livejournal.com/1812812.html?thread=6044748#t6044748).

“Care to join me for tea, Fiona?” Myrtle, a natural redhead despite the rumors, feels herself flush deeply as soon as the words come out. They’re perfectly innocent, sure, but with one side-eyed glance in her direction, Fiona has made it clear who invites who, and to what.

Myrtle was never built to go up against girls like Fiona Goode, but she was certainly born with enough ambition to _try_. The other girls were in terrified awe of pretty, blonde Fiona—they didn’t dare cross her path in the morning, nevertheless _speak_ to her.

But if anything, Myrtle knew herself. And she would _not_ be intimidated.

“I don’t drink tea,” Fiona says coolly, eyeing Myrtle up and down. “But I’m going out for a smoke, and you can join me.”

Right then, Fiona has turned the tables—now _she’s_ the one inviting, she’s the one leading while Myrtle can feel free to follow. Myrtle isn’t an innocent, and her mind wanders to other situations where Fiona may want to lead, and it sends a flash of anger throughout her body.

“I don’t smoke,” she says, voice just as icy, and for a second, there’s a hint of a smile of Fiona’s face. Neither of them is very adept at Concilium yet, but there’s a fission between them, a miniscule exchange of power that makes both hearts beat faster, makes palms sweat.

“Then I suppose we’ll have to find something else to do, then,” Fiona says, extending a hand to Myrtle.


End file.
